Betray and Forgive
by DanaBlood
Summary: Sequel to "Hurt & Heal. Their lives had seen pain, death & despair. They thought it over, but were wrong. While Klaus struggles with family drama, Caroline at his side, no one expected Esther to get allies who hold a grudge against doppelgängers. Nobody expected Stefan & Elena to return. Nobody expected to be drawn into this mess, much less Bonnie & Damon. Bamon Klaroline Stelena
1. Prologue

Welcome back dear readers! I hope you will like this one as much as you did it's prequel "Hurt and Heal". Now this as you've seen is M rated. Hopefully it won't be that necessary, but one never knows. I will try to update at least once a week, but I apologize now if that won't be always the case. Now the prologue isn't much on what you probably want to know, but I hope it captures your attention. Tell me what you think and enjoy! Now, let's read.

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**Prologue**

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Frozen, the ground shook beneath his feet, his shoes discarded on the side, as the fires rose above him, dancing in the midnight sky, like living souls of those long departed. He looked to his right, at the priestess chanting in a language long forgotten by the world, but cherished and preserved by _them_, for they were the ones, they were the Power and the Wrath and the Redemption of this Earth. He swayed as the force of the magick washed over him and then, then his mouth opened anew and he _screamed. _The sound raw and broken, the pitch high and the duration … _oh, it lasted for hours this scream of his! _The ground trembled still, but the air grew warm, heated until it was a scorching fire licking at his flesh and burning, _burning _him to ash. He was no longer frozen, he was _aflame._

* * *

Blue eyes traced the figure standing in the doorway, his hands tightening into fists at his side and his jaw clenching painfully shut. He must have been smiling for the sudden appearance of a scowl – so abrupt his mouth dropped – could not be explained otherwise. _Why now?_ He wondered, but the answer was not his to give, it could not be. He was left as uncertain as a child without its mother, grasping for something, _anything_, to steady him to his feet. He swallowed hard at the woman in the man's arms, her breathing irregular, but not as alarming as he would have expected. Frankly, it seemed as if she was merely having a nightmare that she could not awaken from. He wanted to shake her, to rouse her from her slumber and that urge made his blood boil in his veins and his nails dug deeper into his skin, drawing more of the red liquid. He stupidly asked himself if the blood would burn his hands from how hot it felt coursing through him. He eyes were no longer blue, they were angry, _red_.

* * *

Courage was what made her who she was, from the stubborn set of her mouth to the stiffness of her back to the fire in her eyes. She was the brave one, to a fault _he_ would say, and maybe that was true. She had a bit of a streak of bad luck it seemed, considering her last attempts at being courageous had nearly killed her. The first, her wish to help her best friend, _her sister_ almost, had gotten her comatose for months. The second, well, that had been less likely to end in such happy terms and so she was lucky that the bullet _he'd_ sent had reached its target before _it _could slice her in two. Now, standing before the door of her best friend's house, looking outside, she was shaken. What she felt was no longer courage, but the icy claws of _fear._

* * *

Desperate and worried, he drove. His green eyes never leaving the road as he feared what he might do should they stray and reach _her_ form. She was next to him in the car, her head reclined on the seat, her hands in her lap for he put them there, her eyes closed, her breathing ragged. He trembled, the window was open. _How did I not realize that?_ But the cold didn't bother him as much as it usually did for the cold didn't remind him of his mother's death anymore instead it reminded him of _their_ happiness. And it made his mind go back to her eyes, wide and wondrous, staring at his with so _much_ love it threatened to swallow him whole. It brought back the warmth of her body against his own, the taste of her skin beneath his lips and the sound of her cries as he brought her closer to that ever delightful high. His eyes saw the welcome sign of his home town and suddenly his heart burst anew. He was no longer desperate, but _hopeful_.

* * *

It hurt, her body, her mind. They all ached inside and outside and all around as if she was drenched in acid and she could not rise from it. She wanted to scream, but all she could do was as _he _commanded. He owned her after all, he, a mere _human_, thought he could control her. Maybe she should have listened to her mother, maybe her pride would be her downfall still and maybe she was wrong. But now, more than that, she had her vengeance in her sight and if she had to ally herself with a _human_ than so be it. As the words expelled themselves from her lips, she felt his thoughts. She heard them as one would a song. He was getting ahead of himself, he was beginning to think he was one of _them_. Oh, how wrong he was, how very wrong. As he screamed in her pain, she laughed. No longer did her body hurt, no, it sang with _relief_.

* * *

He yelled, the pain waning yet not truly gone, subsiding to a dull ache throughout his exhausted body. His phone rang, the sound piercing to his pounding head and when he answered, he was rewarded for his pain. The woman speaks clearly, slowly and without a shadow of doubt in her soft voice. He almost smiles, or rather, he would, had he not seen the glare on the priestess's face dampening the joy. He agrees to the one on the phone and, once he ends the conversation, he begins telling the other woman, still humming with magick, of their new ally. The smile is almost blinding on _her_ face so he can't help, but give a small quirk of his lips as well. He no longer screams in pain, but, with contentment, he _sighs_.

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And this was the prologue. I hope you liked it. As you can see we have some very interesting baddies this time, or I hope you think so. I wonder if you can figure out who the woman on the phone is? If you think you know then review and tell me. The first person to guess her right gets a special drabble in the H&H universe with whatever they want. You can ask whatever you want to know about it as long as it won't be in a later chapter in this one. I'll let you know if it is. Also if anybody has any requests about who they want to see or happen then don't be shy. I'll see what I can do about it.


	2. Chapter I: Normal Life

Well, here is the next chapter, let's see what is going on with Stefan and why Elena is unconscious... Hope you like it! Tell me what you think.

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**Chapter I : Normal Life...**

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"I know we didn't keep in touch after we left, but we just needed some time off. We needed a break from the supernatural drama around Mystic Falls." Stefan began once the unconscious brunette in his arms was carefully laid down on Caroline's bed to rest. The brown haired young man had said she would be fine, that he'd given her some blood before getting here, hoping it would help heal her faster.

"Elena was so happy to be free from all the problems, and so was I, to be honest. She had wanted to call, to sent some kind of sign that we were alright. We missed you all. But it was never the right time, there was always something getting in the way." Damon could barely contain himself from saying something hurtful to Stefan's little tale, but he did. Maybe Bonnie standing to his right was what reeled him in, maybe not. He was, nonetheless, proud of himself for this modicum of control he'd just displayed. "The first few days we spent on the road. We thought it best until we found somewhere to stay." The younger man continued. "We eventually settled on the outskirts of New York. There was this little town, quiet and nice – safe – and so we decided to buy a house there. The fact that New York was a mere hour away helped in our choice as well." he paused, drew in a deep breath and took a sip of his tea, looking anywhere else, but at Damon, who, although noticed it, said nothing of it. He was used to being ignored by his brother, it was already a routine, despite the one year gap. It hurt just as much as when they were both human though usually then it was their father's job.

It was for the best anyways, saying nothing. The memory of them leaving still burnt in his chest, the memory of Elena's voice saying she'd heard his scream yet dismissed it seconds later still left a bitter taste in his mouth. _To believe I ever loved her_! It almost made him laugh and curse himself at the same time, thinking he actually thought he stood a fighting chance. Damon warranted a glance at Bonnie, his little witch was calmly and keenly listening to Stefan's story. For all intents and purposes, she looked every bit the same as she used to one year ago, but Damon knew better now. He'd spent the last few weeks with her, adjusting to his mortality, _to being human_, and after the previous night, they were closer than ever. He could now read the anger in her as clearly as he could a book. From the clench of her lopsided mouth, rage boiling hot in her fiery eyes, in the shivers of her hands, her left touching his, but not quite holding. He wanted her to hold his hand, he wanted her to want him to hold hers, they both needed it. But she looked so tense and yet too … _calm_.

* * *

Bonnie didn't blame Stefan for leaving, she understood why he'd done it. She wouldn't even blame Elena had it not been for the last conversation between the two. Silently shaking her head, the witch focused back on the man speaking as he recounted his story, all the while yearning to grip Damon hand in hers. She knew he couldn't be that much better than her now, she remembered enough of the aftermath of Stefan and Elena leaving, of _that day_. She could vividly see the two months that the annoying blue-eyed, now ex-vampire, either spent in his bedroom, not moving from his bed, or in a wheelchair as his spine worked to mend itself. Despite the clear dislike the two held for each other back then, not even Bonnie could blame him for the resentment he had felt towards Stefan and his girlfriend. More so, not even a year later could she understand _how in the name of the Goddess_ had Stefan _not heard Damon's scream?! _She's had moments, however few, when she had wanted to ask the man about that morning, but the last time she's had the thought, he had been so happy, simply cooking her dinner. It had been one of their "humanity lessons" gone late and since they hadn't eaten anything all day, Damon had offered to cook her supper. The lasagna he had made that night still had her mouth watering. It had been the best meal she's ever had. _It had been the best day I've had in ages._

* * *

"We made a life for ourselves there. With the lack of attempts to both mine and Elena's life there was no reason to fall behind studies so she went on a few courses online to get a degree faster and I got a job at the local school as a librarian because we needed the money, compulsion only gets you so far before people get suspicious and also, Elena doesn't like it when I compel for things. I had planned to head over to New York and open a small business, but I liked it so much, the normality, the routine that came with the librarian position that I just stayed. It was great for a while, we were happy. More than we have been in a long, long time. We even got engaged about five-six months ago." A gasp worked its way out of Liz's mouth, the sheriff's eyes growing wetter, Bonnie couldn't remember when she even entered the room. Her mind then realized, _it was around the time Caroline …_

"The wedding was this January. I had wanted to call you, all of you. I need you in particular Damon, but in the end Elena had been right. Why bother you now, after all this time. So we got married, only a few other people there, my colleague at the library, Elena's friends from her gym, the girls are a really nice couple too! And that was that." Stefan continued, unaware of the emotional turmoil the other three were going through. January was the month Caroline woke up without her memory of the rape. The month Katherine had died and Klaus had left.

"And then that Elena got sick. We didn't think anything of it in the beginning, it seemed to be much like a cold, but when she didn't get any better, we got worried. So we went to a doctor who said he had no idea how something like this could be possible. I did some digging and found out that it was a form of magic. A curse placed on Elena. The witch that did it must be very powerful to be able to cast this particular one. I then talked to Meryl, you remember her Damon? The young witch we met in Brazil thirty years ago. She's not a kid anymore. She helped me anyway, despite me almost killing her then. She told me that there is a man looking to get rid of the doppelganger. She told me of a potion I could make myself that should make Elena better, but that failed too. So when she started coughing up blood, I asked to turn her. We fought about it for a few days, but eventually she relented and so she became a vampire. But she was still sick and I couldn't save her." He was crying now, his voice chocked up, trembling, his face wet with tears. Liz was too, but not as badly. She has had her share of heartache this last year and it was enough for several lifetimes. "She's been a vampire for two weeks now." He managed to get out, but the tears wouldn't stop. He was desperate, that was clear. "I took off yesterday night." A small smile was shared between the witch and ex-vampire, but it was short lived. "She just collapsed and I couldn't wake her up again. That's when I gave her some blood, I had stashed up in our fridge. She wouldn't… wouldn't wake up. So I took her in my arms and rushed to the car. I drove all night to get here. Please, please I… I need your help." He pleaded and his eyes were puffy from crying and so, _so green_. Damon hadn't seen his brother crying so much since the night their mother died.

"I'd thought I'd lost all hope when I didn't find you at the Boarding House after I found out Bonnie's house was locked and no one was home. Luckily Matt told me you would be here. Help me, Bonnie, Damon. I don't know what I should do anymore." And so he stopped as Liz wound her arms around him, holding tightly as he cried silently in her shoulder, her eyes filled with sadness and understanding. Bonnie had grown still in the time it took him to finish, that she was more like a statue next to Damon than another human being, her hand clutching his painfully, but he didn't care. _He, _however, _couldn't_ sit still. His left leg was moving up and down frantically, his left hand was fingering his phone mindlessly and his eyes darted around the room fixing eventually on a spider-web in a corner of it.

There was silence then. So much silence that they felt suffocated. And just as the silence was becoming unbearable, there was the ringing of a phone, there was a yelp from Bonnie and a quick snap of Damon's wrist as he answered. There was Liz moving back in her seat and Stefan watching curious as Damon spoke.

"Yes Care" he drawled, his voice mocking, but there was nothing he could do to stop that, his head hurt and he was in no mood for Caroline's bubbly attitude, despite it being what usually drew him out of his depression and anger.

"_Don't be mean! You're the one who told me to call when I get in New Orleans and if I find anything interesting. Well I did both." _Stefan heard the blonde say, and his worry vanished momentarily at her obvious familiarity to his brother. When he had left they had been at each others necks. Then again … _Bonnie is holding Damon's hand._

"Should I be getting Judgy here worried? Did you manage to piss of Klaus yet? Or did New Orleans throw you out for too much happiness and joy?" he continued, his voice now warm as he talked to her. He shouldn't have been so harsh, she had saved his life that day and nearly everyday afterward until she couldn't anymore. They were friends now.

"_Hardy har, Salvatore! Bonnie doesn't need to worry. Nik is more than happy with me, and New Orleans happens to love me! No, it's about Esther. You know how apparently they found her and she's been trying to resurrect Mikael? Well, you ever wondered how that happened? I'll tell you anyway. Kol 's been running all around the US looking for her for a few months now. When that failed, he widened his search parameters an –"_

"You know what parameters are?!" Damon joked, making both Liz and Bonnie snicker a little, but then they turned back to look at Stefan and the fun ended. Damon cleared his throat. "Sorry, continue"

"_As I was saying, he started looking elsewhere and apparently Esther is in Amsterdam looking for this dude… uhm, I forgot his name, that is supposed to be looking for a way to destroy all vampires in one go, Originals included. And he was, in turn, looking for some creature strong enough to protect him from said vampires. That's where Esther comes in. Anyway, we're staying in New Orleans until the end of the week so if you decide to join us, you might want to get here soon."_ She ended her tirade with a sigh, hopeful, and Damon could already see the puppy stare she was trying to give him through the phone. He was about to say no, Stefan did need his help now more, when he heard Klaus adding something that made his blood run cold and his anger to spike.

"_Love, did you also mention the doppelganger problem here?"_

"What did you just say?" Damon growled into the phone, as Stefan gripped his chair tight, his fingers digging into the material.

"_Yes, mate. It is said that this man is trying to kill the doppelganger to draw upon her power. Now I'm not sure if Katherine was part of this or not, but you might want to put aide your ego and give our darling ripper a call. He might need some help. He's welcome to join us and his little girlfriend can come too. We'll be waiting Damon_."

"_Bye Damon!"_ Caroline chirped as Klaus' footsteps began retreating. He also heard her screaming after the hybrid for being and ass to her friend, just before she ended the call. Damon then lifted his head, his bright blue eyes going from the little witch next to him to his brother across from him.

"Well, it seems we're going to New Orleans and then Amsterdam. Why does Esther have to get involved in all of this shit?" he spoke, his tone dry and the sarcasm thick. Bonnie nodded next to him, before standing and with a kiss on his cheek she took off, no doubt to pack her bags and get her cookbook. Liz rose shakily, but smiled at him, and with a hug, she offered to keep Elena here while they went away. Stefan agreed and so the two reunited brothers were left wondering_. This would be interesting_, thought Liz as she closed the door behind Bonnie, staring back at the two men in her living room. With a sigh she realized that she was once again stuck taking care of a girl she loved that had been reduced to a shell of what she had once been. Why did she always end up in these situations? She was holding Elena's hand when she heard the front door opening and closing again. Bonnie returned fast.


	3. Chapter II: A year A night

Hey! Sorry about the long wait, but my internet was down for the count so I couldn't update even if I had wanted to, which I did. Enjoy this new chapter, also the M rating is slowly coming into play ;)

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**Chapter II: _A year_ … _A night_ … Does it really matter?**

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It had been dark, cold and the wind sliced through the trees with outstanding force as he was walking back to his apartment, the night he met _her_. He had had a boring, monotonous life until her appearance and a never-ending struggle, a constant movement since. He remembered her eyes, a cold, unforgiving shade of blue as they stared into his own. Esther, her name had been, and then he remembered the spell. The excruciating pain, the horrible transformation. Now he was dead, forever gone, yet there she still existed. Esther, alive, fighting, desiring an end to the abominations she'd created, death to her children. Mark Trotter had been old, an age that showed in both his mannerisms as well as his physical form, tired, as shown in his ageless eyes and slow movements, and, more than anything, a creature of habit. That is, until he became a creature of nightmare. He died knowing his mistress would win, whether he lived or died, aware of her new allies. _The Priestess and the Madman._

* * *

Despite the ultimatum Klaus had seemed so adamant in giving, Damon realized it would be pointless to go all the way to New Orleans only to fly off again to Amsterdam so he decided to text Caroline later to tell her they'll just meet there. He mentioned nothing of Stefan, or Elena, to her in spite of many questions the bubbly blonde seemed to go through asking him. He occasionally had thought she had a list with all the questions she wanted to ask of someone and that would explain the rapid-fire speed she used when posing said inquires. He had been shocked to discover he had been wrong. She was just inquisitive by her very nature, to put it mildly – a motor-mouth if there was ever one. But now that she and "Nik" were going steady, Damon had held onto the hope that the hybrid would temper her down enough. He'd been wrong again and that knowledge brought a foreboding feeling, twisting in his gut. He wondered if it was just his imagination or if Klaus had really motor-spoke as well. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that either way. It might be detrimental to his health and since he was now human that was a very important factor to take into account.

"Damon?" he heard from behind and, turning, he faced – full on for the first time since he was back – Stefan Salvatore. The blue eyed man tried to reign in the betrayal and anger he felt at being left alone to die by the brown haired, green eyed younger man before him. From the frown on Stefan's less-than-it-used-to-be-but-not-by-much wrinkled forehead, he had failed for a third time. He wasn't sure he was comfortable with that thought. "I'm sorry for just popping back and expecting you to drop everything to help, but I really didn't–"

"No, it's not that. I … since you left, my life has changed much more than you could ever imagine and I'm not even sure it's for the better sometimes." The brunet interrupted, downing the last mouthful of bourbon he had left in his glass. His mind flashed back to that morning, to the – really pretty now that he thought back on it – witch that had had him restrained to his bed, in his room, _in his own house_ and had been driving a dagger deeper and wider along his skin, into his body, cutting him in half slowly. He tried to block the smell of his own blood, dripping, dripping, _flowing _from where she was carefully, surgically almost, slashing. He remembered the pain as though it were here, now, that he was dying. He could see the vibrant eyes of the witch, the fleshy lips mumbling a spell he knew was so complex she was risking her own life to perform it. And suddenly pain flashed through him, real and stabbing and piercing all at once.

He looked shocked when Stefan rushed to his side in an instant thanks to his _vampire speed_, he spat in his own mind, – so he _was_ a little jealous, but can you blame him? – taking his hand in his to open it and get the shards of broken glass out of the palm. Damon winced at the sting as the fragments were hastily pulled out. It was then that Stefan noticed a great, obvious change Damon had experienced

"You're human" the vampire stated, his green eyes widening – comically in Damon's opinion – and he immediately dropped the bleeding hand, speeding to the other side of the living room and slamming himself into the wall.

"Yup" quipped the other one, nonchalantly responding, popping the "p" seemingly unperturbed by his brother's desire to drink him dry. The Ripper was bubbling to the surface and yet the blue eyes remained stubbornly fixed on the still bleeding palm. The pain had subsided, _dulled_, by now and he was almost amused by Stefan's reaction. Or he would have been were he not annoyed by the browned haired man's blatant rejection of his true nature. Stefan tried to bury those responses as deep as he could, yet Damon yearned for them more than ever. He was fine as a human, he had learned how to accept it – what was he, if not a survivor? – but he had thrived as a vampire. At least he got together with Bonnie thanks to it. _And Caroline's help_ his mind helpfully reminded him, mocking.

"How? And stop the bleeding, _please_." Asked the younger man.

"Simple. A weird-ass creature licked me and turned me human. I've no idea how to turn back since I can't hold down any vampire blood" he answered flippantly. He wasn't drunk enough for this conversation. "Wow" came Stefan's reply and the sudden urge to take one of those shards and stab his little brother returned with a vengeance. But before he could go through with his plan, Bonnie entered the room, taking her seat next to him and giving him one of her "what did you do now?" stares matched with a beautiful glare that made him want to reenact the closet scene from a few hours ago. He pointed at the broken glass on the floor, then his hand and finally at his brother with a sharpening of his eyes. She nodded slowly, unsure whether she understood what he meant or not. She took the wounded hand and with an easy healing spell there was only a small scar left. He smiled at her both in gratitude and in an attempt at calming himself, knowing that her presence there would help ground him.

Stefan detached from the wall, hesitantly making his way to the chair he had been occupying before Damon's accident. He was looking at the other two in the room, tracing their features – they looked older, more mature, hardened by time or circumstances, he wasn't sure – scrutinizing their interactions – they were closer, more in tune with each other and, almost, dare he say it, intimate in their way of acting. He could see their relationship growing cohesive, the way they cared for one another plain to all who had eyes to see, and perhaps even those blind. He wasn't sure how that had happened, but they had developed a friendship at the very least since he and Elena left a year ago. He was happy for them. Damon looked more blissful than he had ever been, Bonnie more content that she had been in many, many months, from even before they had left.

"Well, it was nice, but I'm going home now. Stef, the boarding house is free if you want to stay there." Damon spoke, breaking the silence and standing to leave. Stefan, despite seeing it as strange, didn't comment on the fact that Damon made it clear that he was no longer living in the Boarding House. He briefly wondered if it was finally put to good use, but he somehow doubted it. He was also curious where his brother was living now, but he decided to hold his tongue. It was clear that Damon was not his biggest fan nowadays. As Damon closed the door behind himself, Stefan was left in the company of Bonnie Bennett. He looked at her, smiling.

"So, Bonnie, how have you been?"

"In a coma for the better part of the last few months." She said, her tone reminiscent that of his brother, an edge to it that made him flinch as if slapped. He once again questioned how close the two had become. "Sorry, it's been a long year for us Stefan. Damon more than anyone, save maybe Sheriff Forbes." She continued, the look on her face apologetic and tired. He nodded and smiled understanding.

"Should I get Elena too? Or will Sheriff Forbes be alright with her staying here?"

"She's gotten used to it" is all Bonnie said before taking her leave as well, following after Damon. He only then heard his brother's Camaro roaring to life and the two, the former vampire and the witch, conversing. He shook his head with a soft smile, more tired than anything. He went to ask Liz about his wife, but he found the woman in the doorway, just nodding in agreement. He thanked her and left as well. He contemplated whether coming home was really a good choice, but the answer was obvious to him. It had been the best choice.

* * *

Damon was driving, the light blue Camaro, his baby, steady beneath and around him, with Bonnie's reassuring hand in his own, though he had never been the hand holding type. He did not take his eyes off the road, but he knew without a shred of doubt that were he to look at her, he would see her eyes sparking in unshed tears, reflecting understanding and love back at him. His fingers twitched on the wheel. _Love? Since when does she love me? She hasn't told you anything, you moron! You haven't either… Not that I do … or don't … Uhm, I mean, I – _

"DAMON!" she screamed, getting his attention, and from the look on her face, she had been yelling his name for quite a while now. Snapping out of his thoughts – traitorous as they were – Damon and Bonnie made their way to her house. They had been living there ever since they returned from killing Trotter as Bonnie had thought that it would be a better way to teach Damon how to be human. They had developed their own routine since.

As they enter the house, locking the door behind them, the witch holding the keys in her hand as she twisted her wrist, Damon spun her around so that her back was suddenly against the wood and her face inches from his own. Her breath hitched and her face flushed with heat from the darkening color of his eyes, chest heaving, brushing against his own with every fast breath.

"Damon" she spoke, her voice a plea and a reprimand in equal parts. He smirked, stepping just that tiny little bit closer, one of his knees coming to rest in-between her legs, brushing against the crotch of her pants infinitesimally, enough to drive her crazy. She knew why he was doing this. She realized that it was an attempt to distract himself from today's events as much as it was his desire for her – and, _oh_ how she could _feel_ that desire plainly – and while she thought that perhaps it wasn't a good idea to go along with it, the heat traveling through her blood, spreading thorough her body like liquid fire was like a vice to her willpower. Her yearning appeared to be more than her mind's wishes and so, the moment his lips closed over her pulse point, her knees wobbled and her mouth opened in a silent gasp, shivers crawling over her skin giving her gooseflesh, the memories from last night fresh in her mind.

Her hands wove around his neck, her fingers clenching and unclenching at his hair, pulling and scratching as his teeth nibbled on her jaw, his hands gripped her hips and his knee rubbed her in the most delicious way. She snapped her neck backwards, ignoring the pain in her skull as her head connected hard with the door, a moan torn out of her when he pressed against her clit once, just _once_, before he disentangled himself from her with a smirk. He turned to leave.

She glared, her eyes drawing targets on his back as he continued to walk into the kitchen, talking to her animatedly about what she wanted for dinner when her resolve snapped. And while she knew it had been his plan all along, she couldn't stop the tiny keen she let out as she stepped toward him, pushing him against the counter.

Damon looked at her from over his shoulder, growing harder at the sight of her pupils swallowing every last drop of green from her gaze. He swore out loud when her small hand closed around his erection and her lips brushed against his ear only to whisper "_not so fast, asshole"_. Her voice was low, breathy, a contrast to the steady grip she had on him. She tightened her fingers once, then palmed him through his jeans and his eyes rolled at the back of his head when she let magic wash over him in waves, multiplying his pleasure. It was as if there were thousand of fingers, kneading and caressing, pulling, stroking, liquid fire swarming around him, drowning him and drawing him in. With a growl he switched their positions, lifting her onto the counter and taking off her pants and underwear in record time. Ripping off her top, he groaned when he saw she hadn't been wearing a bra. She made quick work of his own clothes, pulling desperately, but only managed to dispose of them with his help. His jacket was thrown across the room, his shirt was left hanging from the edge of the dining table and his pants pooled at his feet. There were few moments when Bonnie was thankful for him going commando and this was one of then as the head of his cock rubbed against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. She was soaking and tense, wound up like a spring. Damon let his head fall onto her shoulder as her small hands gripped his upper arms tight when his hips surged forwards faster than either thought possible.

There was no time for foreplay now, not like the closet, when with each movement they had brushed over each other, teasing and touching until they were half undone without one article of clothing taken off, when their breaths became one, intermingling, and at the end all that was were two people grinding into one another, slowly, patiently, keen passion fueling them. No, this time there were loud moans when her entered her, his full length stretching her walls, only to draw back and move in again, thrusting to the hilt until there was no telling where she ended and he began. Her legs wrapped around his body, the calves digging into his lower back, pulling him deeper as he groaned against her right breast before flicking his tongue over an erect nipple as his hand began toying with the other. As he began sucking, his tongue lavishing the fleshy mound, her hands went back to his soft hair, but it didn't last long before she was running her nails across his back, leaving angry lines behind as she whined and writhed against him. She rolled her hips and he bit his lip so hard that droplets of blood filled his mouth only to be shared with her as Bonnie pulled him into a kiss. She sucked on his lip, smearing her lips red and Damon almost came right then, cursing his mortality for the umpteenth time because he could no longer take as much pleasure as he used to do in the act.

Faster, Damon moved as her moans became yells and her walls clenched around him. Sweat dripped, slicking their bodies, and more screams erupted when he thumbed her clit, circling around it, then finally pinching it hard and her hand enclosed on his buttock, pulling him even closer. Another thrust and she was seeing stars as he grazed that spot deep inside her that made light bulbs explode around them and a raw scream of his name to reverberate throughout the house. One more push and pull, two more and he was gone too, tumbling over the edge with a growl of her name and a bite to her shoulder. Together they slumped, her against the counter and him against her. The sound of their breathing engulfed the kitchen and once they detached, Damon stepped back to help her come down without falling over. When they put their clothes on, Bonnie finally answered the question from earlier. Damon's disbelieving laugh made her giggle despite being still short of breath. Together they ate, laughing and talking.

It hit Damon that night, while they lay in bad – her head on his chest, an arm strewn over his rising and falling chest, legs entangled as if she waned to hold him to her forever– just how domestic it had all become and a smile graced his lips without his consent. He closed his eyes and fell asleep in seconds, never to know the answering grin from the beauty in his arms, for Bonnie had opened her eyes at the perfect moment. She closed her eyes again, the happiness she'd witnessed on his face – that made him look younger – becoming the image she took with her to the realm of dreams.

* * *

I know we haven't seen any Caroline or Klaus, but I can promise you that the next chapter is a Caroline-centric one so enjoy that, also New Orleans! I don't know whether to get Bamon in NOLA or not... what do you think?


	4. Chapter III: New Orleans

Hello, I apologize for the exceedingly long wait, but my internet connection was down, I've had this chapter for a few weeks now, but have been unable to post it so I am sorry! It was torture though, I tell you that! As promised, and from the title, we have NOLA and, more so, Klaroline. Enjoy! Tell me what you think.

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**Chapter III: New Orleans...**

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Morning came, the sun breaking through the nearly transparent drapes at the window, the light reflected in her golden curls which tickled his neck where they touched. He opened his bleary eyes, sleep still making them hazy and half closed. He traced her figure draped over him, from her cat-like eyes of a soft bright green to her long arched neck to her toned abdomen – testament of her cheer-leading days – and long legs. He smiled at the neon green toenails she'd painted the previous night just before going to bed together. The woman was surely a surprise in many ways that sometimes he forgot her true age, her youth. A sigh had him turning his eyes back to her angelic face framed by her hair like a halo. Caroline let her eyes shift from closed to nearly shut, peaking from beneath long lashes at the man underneath her – her left leg draped over both of his, her head over his heart, one arm thrown over his chest. A radiant grin stole his breath away and he was thankful he did not need the air, for he would have died right then from its absence.

_What happened to you?! One baby vamp smiling and you're done? Who are you?! _The thought was abandoned, however, almost as soon as it came, as she lifted herself on her elbows, now on either side of his head and touched her lips to his in a gentle kiss that soon turned hungry. Caroline briefly wondered if that's why the first period of dating was called the "honeymoon", because it always went back to them rolling around the sheets. The grin widened in remembrance.

Klaus could hardly recollect the last time he'd ever been this happy, though seeing that Marcel had survived the fire from a few decades ago, had to be a close enough second occasion. There had been moments, over the years, when he would awaken in dread, his father's face as he revealed Marcel tied on that stage to be murdered flashing through his mind. His phone rang, jolting him from thoughts of his former apprentice – that was more like a son anyways – when he noticed that it had only been a message. He groaned in irritation as Caroline giggled in the crook of his neck which she had previously been kissing.

Nik, you need to get to Amsterdam faster. Mother has gotten more help than I'd initially thought. One of her allies is a voodoo practitioner, a priestess of the Old Powers. Get here fast! Rebekah had written.

His smile faded at the words. The Old Powers were the first witches, stronger than any other, perhaps even than his mother. It was not a laughing matter as coming up against one of the Old Powers' subjects would require at least enough power to take out a large coven of witches. Maybe calling Damon had been the right course of action after all. Despite his newly found mortality, the Salvatore knew how to plan. They were nearly always effective in one way or another – save for when Elena had been involved, she usually was at fault for their failures – so Damon's help would be much appreciated. And if his witch would join, then they might find enough power to hold their own against the priestess. If Caroline's 'Operation Bamon' had worked as she had hoped it would, then the Bennett would surely come along as well and they'd have the strongest witch he'd met since his own mother and Ayana on their side.

Bonnie Bennett. Damon Salvatore. Should he really put so much faith in them? They had been enemies only a year prior after all. Before Caroline's attack. Before Katerina's death. Before Bonnie's coma and Damon's mortality. Before _he'd_ rediscovered his own humanity in the shape of a perky little blonde baby-vampire who could melt his heart with a wink of her eyes or a quirk of her pout-y mouth or an arch of her brow. How had he fallen so? Did he even care anymore? Was it still a weakness? A strength? He _did not care. _She was his and he hers. They … _Us_. He smirked.

He threw the phone aside with a quick reply to his sister, telling her that they wouldn't be long. Then he pinned the woman to their bed, stopping her from her desire to meet up with Marcel and go karaoke. She let out a squeak and then huffed indignant. The look was wiped from her face as soon as he slowly began making his way down her body, mapping it with his lips, tongue and teeth. Caroline whined, the sound echoing inside the silent bedroom and his heart sang in love for this one person that had accepted him as he was, despite her own scars and tortures, some even at his hand.

"Nik! I need to shower! And God knows how my hair looks like!" she argued halfheartedly,whining more, but remained in his arms, her protests dissolving into gasps of delight. They really spent a lot of time in bed, Caroline realized as she threw her head back when he bit lightly into her collarbone, hardly painful as it was.

Niklaus Mikaelson rarely hesitated, but he couldn't help question whether he was truly deserving of the love Caroline Forbes was bestowing upon him with each new day. Selfishness won in the end, as they were coming down from their height of pleasure, and he whispered "I love you". Her answering "love you too", mumbled against his lips with a lazy smile was the only reminder he needed to keep his sanity in a world where his own mother was trying to kill him. Caroline hopped out of bed minutes later, running towards the bathroom and into the shower before he even thought of lifting his head. She was dressed and out of the door soon after, yelling an "I'm off to see Marcel!" that made him chuckle on his way to the bathroom.

* * *

Tugging at her skirt since it wouldn't stay the way she wanted it to, Caroline marveled at the beauty of New Orleans. Her eyes took in the majestic architecture, wiping past house after house of pure history – and though she had never been that passionate in the subject, she couldn't help but wonder how had the city been years ago – her ears were enchanted by the smolder rhythm of jazz music, her body swaying softly to the beats buzzing in the air, and her nose was constantly picking up delicacy after delicacy of food around her. She wasn't even noticing the many people around, the usually prominent smell of their blood no longer torturing her with hunger. She almost didn't observe when the brown-skinned, grinning man known by most as Marcel Gerard called out her name, she was too entranced by the small funeral parade happening on the other side of the street, the music somber enough for death, but still up-beat in a way she couldn't help but dance too.

"Caroline!" she eventually heard and a smile spread on her lips. She waved at him, tearing her eyes off of the band and string of people dressed in black and jogged to reach the bar he was standing in front of. They hugged and with a joke from the man, they entered the karaoke-bar laughing. Caroline ordered a cocktail, green and fruity and sweet – refreshing in one word – while he got one of his special concoctions – a blood-laced bourbon had tasted delicious to any vampire – and they started talking. Caroline knew what he was wondering about, Nik had been very clear in what he though of the fact that Marcel took over New Orleans, so the blonde assumed the older vampire had questions about her boyfriend – Okay, so she'd agreed to call Nik her lover in public, but it didn't mean she couldn't refer to him as her boyfriend in her head, right? What didn't kill you and all that.

"Sooo… what did Klaus say last night?" the question was as inconspicuous as a blunt blow to the head and Caroline couldn't stop the sudden bout of giggles that burst from her lips. She shook her head in disbelief at the man's antics and with a smile she reassured him Nik wouldn't try anything against him – well, anytime soon that was, she could only do so much about the stubborn man she was with.

"Also, you should know we won't be here for long. Maybe another day or two." She added soon after. Marcel nodded and then they were back to drinking and joking around. Marcel seemed to have the same type of humor as Damon which meant that she could get along with him very well. God, she really missed her best-friends! She never thought she'd miss the blue-eyed man as much as she did, Bonnie definitely, Damon, not so much, or better said, if you had asked her a two years ago she wouldn't have missed him. She did miss them both though. Taking another swig of her drink, she watched as Marcel got up and made is way to the microphone. _That vampire sure can sing_, she thought once more, having discovered the talent the other night.

* * *

Klaus and Caroline had been driving without stopping for what seemed like day when finally, the welcome sign appeared. They sped to what had been Nik's family house from when he and his siblings had first settled down in Louisiana and were shocked to see that it was inhabited. Klaus entered, Caroline a step behind him, and looked for whoever was living inside his home. When Marcel rounded a corner suddenly, Caroline barely had the time to avoid crashing into the hybrid's back from how fast he stopped. She had worried then, for only a few moments, whether Nik had had a heart attack, but she quickly dismissed that idea due to its sheer stupidity. After that, she had wanted to introduce herself, but Marcel said Klaus' name stupefied and she was thrown off guard as well. It was then that the hybrid snapped back to reality and almost flew across the room to tackle the younger vampire to the ground. She was fast enough to disentangle the two quarreling men, but not enough to spare them the occasional wound. Klaus had a broken rib, a twisted wrist and busted lip – all of which easily healed – while Marcel had a broken leg, two fist-sized bruises on his face and a cut on his brow – just as easy to fix. They looked ridiculous to her and she had told them so. Klaus had then taken to threatening the other man about what happened to those that stole his things before leaving, which, of course, meant that Caroline had to do the damage control again. Why she ended up like this she would never understand, but she was sure of one thing. Despite the similar situations between Damon's tantrums and Klaus', the hybrid obviously cared more about Marcel than he let out.

Caroline spent the next hour or so clearing things up and trying to gather information about where had the two men met or what had been between them. She learned that Klaus had taken Marcel in as a child, basically saving him from his abusive, slave-driver of a father, and raised him as his own, even giving him the name of Marcellus Gerard. She felt her heart swell and realized then what the vampire across from her meant to her boyfriend – a son. She promised she would talk to Nik and get him to understand what had happened. How Marcel barely survived Mikael, how he struggled to rebuild his city, how he became the "King" of New Orleans. She still wasn't sure if she succeeded, but Klaus had at least listened to her and agreed to talk to his protegee about everything so she could only count that as a win-win situation. It could have been much worse, that was for sure.

* * *

The song ended and soon, the older vampire rejoined her at the table and they resumed their drinking. They stayed for about another half hour, during which Caroline sang two songs and then another together with the man, then Marcel offered to take her on a tour around the city, an opportunity she refused to pass up, so they spent most of the afternoon together, becoming friends. The only slight pause in their tour had been when Caroline got a message from Bonnie telling her she and Damon would either get there a day or two later or that they would completely skip New Orleans and meet directly in Amsterdam. She had sent an "okay" and a thumbs-up back. Frankly, she had hoped they'd say that. Despite her missing them, it was still a fact that the moment they met, things would get dangerous again. After that small break, Marcel showed her the La Fayétte cemetery, complete with the grave of Marie Laveau, the infamous voodoo queen. They had a lot of fun, so when Nik texted her later that afternoon, Caroline was in high spirits. Marcel walked her to where she and Klaus were staying, and while she showered and changed, the men talked and worked out their issues. So what if when she came back there were more broken items in the living room, at least they were smiling at each other now. Caroline counted that a success as well.

"Caroline, shall we head out to dinner?" Nik asked her as Marcel left the hotel room and she smiled brightly at him. He took her hand, kissing her knuckles and making her chuckle, and with a smirk he led her down the stairs and into a limousine. She swore that, were she not already dead, the excitement would have killed her. She could feel her heart pumping wildly and it was quite the feat considering vampire's heartbeat should be slower then a humans'. He blindfolded her when the car stopped, and with her hand in his, he slowly guided her forward. When he finally slowed to a halt, she could barely keep the feelings bubbling inside her under control. He untied the blindfold and the sight left her breathless.

They were near the bayou, in a place that had clearly been planned out, there were fireflies all around them, lighting up the darkness, in-between some trees – tall and with their branches filled with dark green leaves hanging low like a canopy – where a beautifully arranged table for two had been placed. There was a candle in the middle of the table, ornate and scented – unlike the ones Bonnie usually used for her spells that gave off heady smells that always left her with a headache – and two plates with steaming delicious food awaiting them. Caroline grinned abashed and lifted on her toes to kiss Klaus fully on the lips before she took his hand and dragged him to the chairs to sit down. He was a perfect gentleman and pulled her chair so she would sit down and the simple and yet so meaningful action caused a blush to settle on her cheeks. She still hadn't gotten used to being pampered. They talked and danced the night away – Caroline pleasantly surprised to notice that it hadn't been red wine in their glassed but blood – and glorious food she had never thought she would be able to taste in her life. It had been heaven.

And when, later that night, she snuggled to his chest and peppered kisses on his neck and collarbones slowly drifting to sleep she wondered what would her life have been had she never agreed to give him a change. It had been the first night in months when she had been able to dream about her rape and not wake up fearful because Klaus was finally there to stay with her. instead, she smiled through her tears and waited for the day the rape would fade enough that she would be able to go a night without seeing it replayed to her.

* * *

A woman walked the streets of a city, humming a slow haunting tune that summoned shivers to dance across the skin of her male companion. He was keeping up with her, barely, his mind rushing over the excitement of the day, his blood pumping power through his veins. Her voice grew louder, the song French, as she let words slips through her lips and his shivers increased.

_Dominique, nique/ Nique s'en allait tout simplement/ Routier pauvre et chant–_

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Sorry about the long wait again, I didn't mean for it to happen, but it did. Sorry. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, see you next time for more Bamon!


	5. Chapter IV: Domestic bliss

Sorry! _Sorry sorry sorry!_ I know I had promised to update soon but there is so much going on with my final year of high school and all that I just didn't have the time to write any more and I hate myself for it! I hope you like this chapter!

I still don't own anything. Enjoy!

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**Chapter IV: Domestic bliss...?**

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Marcel walked the street of his home, the alleys and roads he had grown up with and thought. It had been many years since he'd last seen his maker and he had to admit, the man had changed in that time. He smirked at his friend, Diego, who was drinking a nice little redhead for dinner today, and greeted his people. He had always tried to find a place for himself so being the King of New Orleans had seemed to work wonderfully. If only Klaus wouldn't try and steal his place. Perhaps he would not, Caroline was intelligent, she knew how to handle the hybrid and, most importantly, she loved the man. If anyone could make Niklaus Mikaelson listen, it would be her. Her inherent goodness was only another advantage, her light stifling some of Klaus' darkness. He liked Caroline, he'd decided, and he liked her even more for loving his … _father?_ Klaus was the closest thing he had as one, so maybe he _was_ his father. Marcel smiled. New Orleans had guests, two of a kind, and who was he, if not a great host. A new parade was due.

* * *

Damon woke up more tired than ever. His head pounded and his throat was dry and scratchy. He groaned, swinging an arm over his eyes to block the brightness of the sun, but the gruff sound only served to make him even more miserable. He curled into Bonnie, but found her gone. He begrudgingly opened his eyes then, searching the room. He couldn't hear the shower running so she wasn't in the bathroom, _maybe the kitchen?_ Standing up, he let his feet touch the carpet covered floor and slowly dragged himself towards the other room, brushing his teeth sluggishly and struggling to swallow. His throat was killing him, aching and burning. _What the fuck is it now?! _His nose was stuffy too, to add insult to injury. This morning was proving to be a bother already!

"Bon?" he tried to yell, but it came out as chocked and it only irritated his throat further. "Are you making breakfast?" he gave it another go and was rewarded by her answer, a loud and clear 'Yes' from downstairs. So she was cooking, how nice.

Damon trudged down the stairs and rounded the corner to sit at the small table, but he stopped in the doorway to trace her form, wearing one of his shirts – the blue one, that Caroline said brought out his eyes – and working over the stove to make sure the omelets didn't burn. He almost didn't notice the other person inside the kitchen, but Stefan's awkward position at the table was hard to miss. Damon cleared his throat – _if only it would stop hurting!_ – and gave his brother a small salute as he made his way to the coffee pot. He found it hard to function without at least one cup every morning, ever since he'd become human.

"Morning" he mumbled into his mug, leaning to kiss Bonnie on the cheek and once more wondering when had they become so damned domestic. Stefan said nothing, but Damon couldn't say he had expected any different. Bonnie smiled at him and poured the omelets into three plates. _So little brother is joining us for breakfast, is he?_

"What's with your voice, Damon?" the woman asks, chewing on her food and sipping her own mug of dark liquid. The blue eyed man shrugs, it's not like he is sure of it himself. "Maybe it was the freezing weather from yesterday, I did tell you to get a jacket. I think you've got a cold." His scoff wasn't anything new, but the slight distressed that flickered on his face afterward was. Bonnie tried very hard to keep her mirth to herself, but the laughter burst out before she could contain it fully. Damon glared, but even he could understand the irony of having a common cold after a century and a half of clean health. He sniffed and then scowled for doing the action that cause another bout of giggles from his roommate.

Stefan watched the exchange with increasing interest, the relationship between the two former frenemies clearly changed over these months. He felt guilty again for having left without a word, but he stood his ground on the decision. It had been the best thing then, as coming back was the best for now. Bonnie said something else he didn't quite get, but Damon obviously did if his amused glare was answer enough, then he threw a piece of eggshell he'd found in his plate at her mockingly. She shook her head at his childishness and turned to Stefan with a look that spoke of how much she pitied him for having Damon as his older brother, but she smiled next, winking which seemed to contradict her earlier reaction. Stefan realized how well Bonnie and Damon's relationship worked, how well the two interacted with each other and how close they'd gotten. He was sad not to have witnessed it grow from the hateful comments to this familiarity and obvious care they now had.

"So how is Elena this morning? Any changes?" the witch asks once she ended the combination of indignant snorts, half-hearted glares and soft slaps over the head she had begun trading to his brother for insulting her cooking skills. Stefan shook his head, Elena had been asleep when he had left, her breathing still staccato, but better then before and her face flushed with fever. If anything it was the same, but with different symptoms.

"I checked on her before leaving Liz' and there were differences, but overall she seemed to be the same. I'm getting worried that the more we stay here, the more chances there are of her getting worse and dying. Didn't Klaus say they were targeting the doppelganger? Maybe we should see if Katherine has any idea about who this guy is, it's the least she –" but he ended his sentence abruptly when Damon stood up and punched him, the fist connected hard with his jaw, yet not strong enough to move him from his place at the table. Bonnie muttered a small spell which seemed to render the older man paralyzed, his hand extended in another punch which would have certainly hurt worse, and then she dragged Stefan from his chair, pulling him behind her as they exited the house quickly. She entered her car, waited for the man to join her and drove off, muttering what Stefan could only assume was a counter spell to let Damon go. She stopped at the edge of the forest. Stefan was beyond confused by now.

"Come on" she said and her tone bore no trace of the previously light-hearted young woman. She was serious and agitated and harsh, her voice regaining that same sharpness from the other day. Stefan followed her without a sound, realizing there was something here he had missed, something he was about to be told. He thought about Damon's reaction and frowned, he had thought his brother had gotten over Katherine, at the very least he had stopped loving her. Why would he react like that? Stefan didn't think that he had done anything too bad, he had referred to the woman in that tone many times before, Damon himself had done so as well, what could have possibly changed since? He was confused, but he hoped Bonnie would answer some of his questions.

Then, they stopped, a wide plain around them. They were a mere 100 feet away from the Boarding House. The sun shone brightly, the tree's stood tall and green, the grass soft and plush and Bonnie walked forward, one step at a time as if afraid that if she hurried whatever it was she was going toward would break. Stefan watched as her steps ended, observing her look down upon – what he saw from where he was – a patch of ground. She beckoned him to stand by her and he did, his eyes following her line of sight and gasped at the sight. A plaque of concrete imbedded in the earth. A grave.

_Here lies Katherine Pierce,_

_Daughter and mother._

_May she find freedom in death if she could not do so in life._

And suddenly it made sense. Katherine was dead. Damon had known that and had obviously buried her, taking the time to write on her gravestone something so true about the woman that had broken them that the vampire was sure it had hurt. Stefan smiled, but it was forced. He had never thought he would live to see the day Katherine Pierce would die. She had seemed a constant in their lives ever since that first day they'd met, something… eternal. Gone. He wished he could say he was sad, it would be the good thing to feel, it was what he should feel for she was now dead, but he could not. She had ruined his life, his brother's life and many others, it was better that she was dead, and yet …

"When did she die? How?" he found himself saying, his voice expressionless. He shuddered at his own insensitivity. Bonnie turned to look at him and he recognized her expression, it was what he was sure he used to give Damon whenever he appeared to not care about anyone and anything. When had he fallen so far?

"She died in January, when you were busy getting married to Elena." Bonnie snapped, but she soon realized how she must have sounded and apologized. "Sorry, I didn't mean that, it's just… January was a long month for all of us and you were gone. As for how she died… I don't know. Damon was the one who found her and he hasn't really spoken about that with anyone. All I know is that he had a sort of breakdown after he buried her the first time. We reburied her after we killed the one responsible and got this grave. We didn't see Katherine even when he dug her up to put her into a coffin. Damon did all that too and I saw what _it_ did to him. Stefan, he looked shattered that day. I have never seen him look so bad since– Never mind." She dismissed. It was not her story, not truly. Maybe it was Caroline's too, but not hers.

"Since what? Bonnie what else happened?" he sounded distressed and she wanted to tell him, if only to make him understand why Damon could not forgive him so soon, but what could she say? _Since you left your brother to be cut in half? Since you left him to deal with being paralyzed from waist down? Since having his best friend leave town because he was being taken over by a vampire-murdering alter ego? Since his other best friend got raped and almost killed? _How could she say any of it? It wasn't something you just blurted out at dinner, or you turned into small talk. And it wasn't hers to share. It was Damon's and Caroline's. It was their lives, their experiences. She'd said hers, she told him about her coma. He needn't know what caused it. He knew enough. And he had his happiness away from here, _from them_, he'd gotten a chance at life – normal and without the horrid things they faced – and he's gotten a chance at love, free from the troubles that seem to plague Mystic Falls. How could she destroy that? What right did she have to take that away?

"Nothing, I … I just thought of something else and my mouth got ahead of me." She lied, but the lie felt heavy on her tongue, as if it was only a matter of time before the truth – her terrible, awful truth – came out. She wished it wouldn't. "We should head back. Damon will only get angrier the more we stay away. And we have to start packing. It's already Friday. Caroline said that she and Klaus are staying until Sunday so we should be ready to either join them in New Orleans or head to Amsterdam directly."

"Yeah, we should head back. I'll talk to Damon, I'll apologize." Stefan mumbled and Bonnie breathed in relief. And then she remembered. _Oh, God! Damon! I paralyzed him! How could I have been so stupid! I knew what he'd gone through and yet I do this?! What is wrong with you Bonnie Bennett?! He trusted you and you basically forced him to relive that moment?! If he ever wants to talk to me again I'll be lucky. _I_ wouldn't want to talk to me. _She swore that she would never use that spell on him ever again, whether he forgave her or not, even if he turned serial killer and she was the only one who could stop him. "I'm sorry, Damon" she whispered and if Stefan heard, he kept silent about it all the way back to her house. He left her though, walking abck to Liz'. This morning sure ended up worse than it had started. And it was already late afternoon. Why was she even surprised anymore?

* * *

Damon spent the time after his new girlfriend and his brother left, trying to drink his memories away while his sniffling got worse and he began sneezing every few seconds. It was hell. And his mind was a traitor too, replaying the moment of finding Katherine over and over in his head. From the contorted body – bruised, broken and bleeding – to her empty brown eyes – devoid of the usual mischievous brightness, hollow – that stared toward his house – intently and almost pleadingly – to her gray skin – still warm, still pliable, but _dead _– and the half scream on her lips – cut and soft. He shook his head, another swig of bourbon burning his throat, as he flexed his leg muscles if only to make sure he could still feel them.

A wave of rage washed over him combining with the fright he had felt when Bonnie paralyzed him, his breathing becoming shallow and accelerated. He chugged his alcohol down in one swift gulp of the beverage and shook his head. Bonnie probably didn't even understand how much it had affected him to be unable to move, even for those few seconds she'd kept him restrained, but he had remembered in those moments what it felt to be cut open, exposed and unable to defend himself. He saw, in those seconds, the months of, either, never leaving his room – Ric and Caroline by his side, helping, healing him – or of having to use a wheelchair to be able to just _move_. He had abhorred that time, he had done whatever he had been able to, to forget it. Now, it all came crashing back. The helplessness, the despair, the loneliness. Suffocating him. Smothering his psyche and weakening his body, they repeated before his very eyes. They hurt. He could not stand being perceived as weak or being taken as a fool or the thing that everyone else had to drag along for he was unable to carry his own weight. He had learned to live by himself and for himself long before Katherine ever came into his life, from the time his mother had gotten ill, and then died – which still brought an emptiness inside his chest from time to time – he had been on his own, sometimes having to be there for Stefan as well. His father had resented him, for reasons still unknown, and he had a little brother that needed him. He was used to being the strong one, the one everyone else turned to during a crisis. He hadn't been anything then. And he had hated it…

Bonnie Bennett ruined his illusion of perfection, she had opened the floodgates of his worse memories and there was nothing he could do to close them back up. Damon punched the table in frustration, his eyes growing redder as he struggled to hold the tears inside. He blinked and one, two tears falling onto the wood below him and he punched the table harder this time, not stopping as he punched and cried until his knuckles were raw and bleeding and his eyes had dried back up. He cleaned the kitchen and waited. Bonnie would want to apologize. He would let her, if only because of how much he cared and how well he knew her. She hadn't wanted to hurt him, she just hadn't wanted him to hurt Stefan. He understood. The door opened, he breathed in deeply. She stepped inside.


End file.
